


Mannerisms, Routines, Nervous Tendencies

by grumblebee



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, M/M, Rimming, Vouyerism, blindfold, handjobs, sense depravation, tease Ben, washington harem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 02:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8083969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumblebee/pseuds/grumblebee
Summary: Benjamin Tallmadge, confident in his attention to detail as a spy, is put to the test when Hamilton offers him a challenge. Bound and blindfolded, he must distinguish which lover is which, based solely on touch.





	

Benjamin knew better than to push Hamilton’s buttons. Within their inner circle he was the most likely to take up an offer--no matter how obscene-- as long as it proved him right. So when Hamilton cajoled him about his skills as a spy, Benjamin made a rather unfortunate retort.

“Unlike you, sir, I’m expected to observe and record all behavior. Mannerisms, routines, nervous tendencies; I see them all until I can distinguish a person blindfolded.”

Hamilton raised a brow, throwing a sideways glance to Lafayette. The two shared a brief pause, lips pressed together in sly, amused smiles. “I'd quite like to see these skills.” Hamilton said, swirling his finger around the rim of his glass. “Perhaps we can arrange a time for you to...show them off”

Ben swallowed thickly, already anticipating the ways Hamilton wished to authenticate his skills. He pushed his doubt into the pit of his stomach and mustered up a brace voice. “If it pleases you. When and where?”

“His Excellency’s boudoir, of course” Lafayette chimed, eying Ben up and down gleefully. “What better way to prove yourself than to distinguish between your lovers. With all the time you spend with us, it should be simple, no?”

Ben nodded, a little embarrassed at how quickly the two had thought this up, but it seemed plausible. He spent many nights with both Lafayette and Hamilton, as well as Washington himself. The three had distinct styles, time tested ways of approaching him and touching him. He’s certain he’s done it with his eyes closed with pleasure before--what's so different about a blindfold?

Hamilton rose from his seat, and motioned for Lafayette to follow. “Then it's settled. Tonight, in His Excellency's bedchamber, we see how finely tuned you are. I'm sure Washington will be _most_ interested in how his head of intelligence responds under duress.”

The rest of the day was spent fretting; needlessly worrying about performing in front of Washington. How would he respond if Ben failed? Would he reconsider his position as head of intelligence? Scold him? Spank him? The possibilities both frightened and aroused him-- a shameful combination that kept Ben throbbing throughout the afternoon. This was his _performance._ His time to prove how valuable he was. That he could be good and do good for the cause.

By the time evening fell Ben was in knots. He waited until darkness crept over camp to make his way towards the manor Washington resided in. His visit was already expected, and he was waved through immediately. His stomach clenched at the idea of what lay behind the large wooden door leading to Washington’s bedroom. He lay a palm flat against the wood, taking a desperate moment to collect himself.

“Enter, Major Tallmadge.”

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of Washington’s voice through the door. He scrambled to open it, palms sweaty and slipping on the brass knob. Inside, the three sat comfortably in wait; Hamilton and Lafayette already naked on the bed, Washington fully clothed and settled in an armchair by the fire. Ben’s knees wobbled as he entered.

“Off to a false start, Major. We heard you loudly clambering up the stairs. Not very _discreet_ for a spy.” His tone was dark, with hint of amusement as Ben shifted nervously under his gaze.

“M-my apologies, sir. I’m a bit nervous.”

Washington raised a brow, faux surprise adorning his face. “Are you? You're shaking like a leaf. Come now, it's just us. Lafayette will you help Benjamin get comfortable.” The Marquis slid of the bed, meeting Ben halfway to help him out of his uniform. The room was unbearably quiet, save for the rustling of fabric as they peeled it off him. Hamilton watched him with cool contemplation, already stroking his half hard cock to life. 

Once nude, Washington motioned for Ben to approach him. Two strong hands settled on the curve of his hips,thumbs digging in deliciously into them. “Now Benjamin, I need you to be very good. I want to see how well you do under pressure, when your sense of sight and touch are limited.”

Ben’s ears perked up. “T-touch, sir? I thought it was just the blindfold.” Washington smiled gently, reaching behind him to produce a length of soft rope. Ben’s cock twitched at the prospect of being bound, toyed with on display for Washington to judge.

“It would be too simple. All you’d need to do is run a hand through one’s hair to figure out their identity. I want you to distinguish between your lovers on their touch _alone._ ”

A shiver of excitement ran down his spine. This wasn't part of any fantasy he had about tonight. It threw him in the most exhilarating way. He was about to reach for the rope when Washington moved it away. “I need you to confirm that this is what you want. You're a sensitive boy, and all those hands might get a little overwhelming.” He said, his gaze stern and steady.

Ben blushed, retracting his hands to clasp them in front of him. “Yes, sir. I want this more than anything.” His voice was strong and determined, something that made Washington’s lips curl into a coy smile.

“Good boy. On the bed with you.”

Ben arranged himself comfortably, where Hamilton and Lafayette took to the task of binding his wrists. The ropes lay slightly slackened, but a quick flex told Ben that each arm was securely tethered to a bedpost. Lafayette fit a strip of black cloth over his eyes, the room vanishing from view save for the faint trickle of light that seeped through the fabric. Ben squinted, testing to see if he could distinguish any shapes through his blindfold, but had no such luck.

Washington’s voice drifted to his ears as two sets of hands set themselves down on his abdomen. “Start slow. Let him work up to it.”

The first set of hands wiggled its fingers, ghosting up and over the sensitive bud of his nipples. Ben smirked. _“_ Lafayette.” He said, recognizing the way his fingers paused to squeeze his nipple. There was a small huff from above him.

“Correct.”

“I told you, you need to think _carefully”_ Hamilton hissed, his own hands moving up and away from Ben’s torso. Lafayette removed his hands, and Ben waited with quiet anticipation for the next touch. There was some rustling, hushed whispers and footsteps as the two gauged their next move. A slender fingertip ran up Ben’s shaft. Too quick. The touch was too quick to tell. Washington’s voice returned.

“Trouble?”

Ben cleared his throat, embarrassed to have been tripped up so soon. “It was too brief, sir. I could not tell.” Above him Hamilton and Lafayette snickered, obviously enjoying their small victory. Washington spoke once more.

“Then they shall do it again. _Slower_ this time.”

A hand wrapped around his cock, pacing slow steady strokes. Whose hand was this? Neither too soft or rough, neither of them were required to do hard labor. A firm steady pressure, one that made Ben crave more friction. He found himself meeting the strokes with small thrusts of his own, pushing himself up into the palms of the man above him. The first buck of his hips sent alarms off in his mind. It felt _good._ A little too good. The possibility of losing his senses, becoming undone and desperate, frightened him. He’d fail the test if he succumbed.

But oh how he wanted to.

“That's enough. You should know by now who that was.” Washington clipped, stopping the action just before Ben crumbled.Relief washed over him, he would last a little longer in this game. “Benjamin, your  answer, please”

“Hamilton.” Ben said, forcing some authority to mask his uncertainty. There was a hiss of disapproval above him.

“ _Shit,_ correct.”

It had been a stab in the dark really, a 50/50 chance that Ben had gambled on because he so foolishly indulged in Hamilton’s touch. They would most likely up the ante, probing all of Ben’s sensitivities until his mind unraveled and he could barely form a sentence. It was his job, his _duty,_ to resist that temptation.

Yet resisting was easier said than done. Ben gasped as a hot slick tongue ran up his inner thigh, one hand cupping his balls with a gentle squeeze. The other set of hands moved to part his legs, guiding them up so that he lay more exposed on the bed. His breath hitched as the tongue between his legs swiped at his hole, darting quickly across before leaving him. Ben bit his lip. He could not tell.

Whoever had moved his legs leaned over, pressing small kisses along his neck and collarbone. The man was freshly shaved, and smelled of citrus. Ben made note of that.

“Switch.” Washington commanded, prompting some quickly rustling as Hamilton and Lafayette swapped their vague positions. The new man returned to the task of sucking on Ben’s collarbone, and Ben focused on the scent of his perfume. Citrus. _Shit._ Clean shaven too. The two had conspired beforehand to mask their identities. His brow furrowed with frustration, attracting Washington’s attention. “Is something the matter, Benjamin?” He asked coolly.

“No! No, sir I...I’m just taking my time.”

This earned a little chuckle, Washington pleased with what he was seeing. Oh how Ben wished he could see him. Propped up in his chair, one big hand down his breeches at the sight of Ben all tied up and vulnerable. How his eyes would flicker with some dark hunger as he was spread open for all to see. Ben’s cock jumped, aching as his imagination got the better of him. There were some soft giggles above him.

“Our sweet Benjamin is excited, I see”

“His Excellency is impressed.”

Ben squirmed. He couldn't tell where the voices were coming from. They floated down as if on feathers, lightly showering him with gentle praises. The confirmation that Washington was watching, that he saw and yearned for Ben was maddening. Ben tugged pitifully at his restraints as he awaited his next touch. He would be good, just as Washington said. He would prove himself as his head of intelligence.

He let out an undignified yelp at the sensation of a tongue pressed against his hole, a hand dropped to his chest to steady him. He felt two hands grip his cheeks, tugging them apart enough for the man working him to properly taste him. His own cock throbbed, it's neglect drawing the attention of the other man. This time his cock was grasped with a more gentle hand. Long slender fingers wrapped around the shaft and thumbed over the head methodically. It had to be Lafayette, meaning the man working his hole was Hamilton. He committed their touch to memory, determined not to let them slip him up.

Lafayette’s hand picked up the pace, drawing forth heavy pants from Ben as he arched into his touch. Feeling comfortable with his choice, Ben allowed himself to slip into the warmth of their touch, pleasure radiating with every new stroke of his cock. Ben whimpered as Hamilton ceased his work, withdrawing from between Ben’s thighs. He returned briefly, pressing an oiled up finger to the already spit slick hole. He pushed in, causing Ben to gasp loudly.

“Is it too much, Benjamin?” Washington’s concerned voice said. Ben shook his head, reaffirming it with a brave voice.

“No, sir. I can do this.”

Hamilton crooked a finger inside, watching Ben writhe beneath him. It was so obviously Hamilton. Who else would respond to Ben’s brave words with a sharp reminder of how vulnerable he was? Lafayette’s work on his cock had also ceased, the man easing off the bed to watch Hamilton stretch him out. Ben could make out the telltale sound of skin on skin, Lafayette taking care of his own aching cock.

Flush stained his cheeks, working the color down his neck and chest as Hamilton replaced one finger with two. Though normally they would coo at how well Ben took them, how beautiful he looked, they remained silent; unwilling to give away whose hand was stretching Ben out.

Confident that he had puzzled out their identities, Ben took to pushing himself down on the fingers, biting his lip as he filled himself with Hamilton’s digits. Two fingers became three, and Ben’s mind was starting to spin as he strained against his bonds to chase the sensation. His legs kicked to find traction, anything that he could use to continue taking Hamilton. How foolish he must look, floundering around on the bed like a hooked fish. In his mind’s eye Ben could see the smirk on Hamilton’s face, giddy to see him struggle for gratification. He could see Washington eying him with that intoxicating mixture of pride and jealousy as Hamilton worked him over. Lafayette pleasuring himself as he watched him buck against his restraints.

Their identities and positions swirled and faded as Ben threw his head back to grind down on anything that would give him satisfaction. All at once, Hamilton removed his fingers, leaving Ben cold and empty. He choked back a pathetic sob, his climax escaping him. His legs were lowered so that he once more lay flat on the bed.

“Now, now. It's almost over. Steady your mind, and tell me who is on top. When you're sure... _completely_ sure, tell me.” Washington instructed. Ben steadied his breathing, reminding himself of the task at hand. All the winding up was to throw him. He must pay close attention, draw from his knowledge thus far, and pick the right man.

Ben’s heart skipped a beat as the two climbed onto the mattress, the bed sagging as they both stepped in unison. He felt thighs pass over him. Light brushes of skin against his hips, but very little weight. Neither Hamilton nor Lafayette seemed to want to give themselves away by resting on him. The man on top shimmied down, a deft tongue pressing just below his navel. It traveled down, teasing Ben with its warmth until it reached the juncture between his hip and leg. There it danced briefly, tickling him delicately. Ben steadied his mind, though his cock ached desperately. It had to be Lafayette. He was always so gentle and delicate.

The man then moved upward, hot breath dragging up Ben’s torso until it lingered on his chest, teeth catching and biting the already sensitive nipple. Ben swore under his breath, a whole new array of experiences flooding his mind. Hamilton. It was Hamilton. He had been so insistent on thinking _carefully_. It would make sense that he would want to be on top---to pull off that blindfold and tell Ben he lost.

No, it made _too_ much sense. It must be Lafayette, masquerading as Hamilton to lure out his decision. Hamilton would stand by and watch Ben succumb to the wrong answer. But the mouth at his ear, sucking gently on the lobe told him otherwise. It was Hamilton. His teeth nipped just so, just where Ben was sensitive enough whimper. He could call it now, call the whole thing and win the game, but something kept him back. The suspicion that just another few moments would tell the true identity of his lover.

A slight, gentle touch drew across Ben’s plush lower lip, tugging it softly. That was it. That’s what he was looking for. The smallest little gesture he knew from only one man. Ben smirked, having won this little game.

“Lafayette. It’s Lafayette!” He gasped, breathy and giddy at his revelation. All at once his blindfold was ripped from him, his eyes struggling to adjust to the light of the candles. His breath caught in his chest. There, poised over him, _Washington._ How? _How?_ A man so large in stature, so mighty, able to slip in unnoticed during Ben’s test. To straddle him without applying weight, to touch him gently as one of his boys would.

“Incorrect, Benjamin.”

Ben’s cheeks felt hot, humiliated that he not only failed his test, but he confused the largest man here with the slightest. “That’s--how--” he stammered, tears gathering in his eyes. Washington smiled, sitting back on his heels.

“Did you not agree to be tested to distinguish the touch of your _lovers._ Am I not your lover, Benjamin?” He asked, catching Ben in his glaring mistake. He had completely overlooked it. He had just assumed Washington would be watching, judging, a silent pair of eyes that measured his worth.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn't think---”

“That's right. You _didn't_ think. And it's not the first time, Benjamin. You're headstrong, something to be admired, but it comes with its fatal downfalls. When you entered this room there were three men. What kept you from thinking all three wouldn't lay their hands on you?”

Ben blinked, no valid answer coming to his mind. “You were supposed to judge, sir. You _always_ judge.”

“And yet I didn't”

“That's not _fair_ ”

Ben realized how childish it sounded as Washington quirked an eyebrow at him. “ _Spying_ isn't fair, Benjamin. Anything you observe, anything you feel, can be mimicked and turned against you.” He said, taking the back of his hand and drawing his knuckle, feather light, across Ben’s lower lip. The touch that convinced him it was Lafayette.

“ _Any_ intimate knowledge is a tool. I know you three quite well, and with a little practice, pulled the wool over your eyes. How easy would it be to dupe you elsewhere? Far from where we can help you?”

Ben fell silent, ashamed as the three stared down at him. He had failed. It was painfully obvious he was not fit for this. The tears brimming in his eyes spilled down his cheeks, trailing off into his hair. Washington’s expression softened.

“Dear boy, we mean you no shame. All we say, we say out of love.” He cooed. Ben stifled a sob as Washington placed his palms on his hips. “Perhaps it is I who has failed. We so often take you separately that you have no prior experience of multiple hands on your body. I let my knowledge of your sensitivity hinder you.”

Hamilton and Lafayette crawled back into bed, one on each side of him. “Shall we help him learn, your Excellency?” Hamilton asked, brushing his thumb over the rise of Ben’s cheek. Washington hummed, picking Ben’s legs up.

“I do believe so. Benjamin has been very good, despite his misgivings.”

A warm hand wrapped around Ben’s cock, and Hamilton pressed his lips close to his ear. “I won't say I told you so, Benjamin. But only because our dear Lafayette insists on spoiling you today.” Ben nodded, turning to Lafayette as he stroked Ben slowly.

“Thank you, sir.” He whimpered.

Lafayette pressed a quick kiss to his chest, humming sweetly. “I’d save your thanks for His Excellency, he’s held off from touching himself so well. This is as good for him as it is for you.”

Ben watched with wide eyes as Washington slicked himself down, holding Ben up by the backs of his knees as he pushed in. It was searing, stretching further than Hamilton’s fingers could, yet the sense of fullness made his toes curl. His voice clawed out of him in a strangled moan. “Ohh, thank you, sir. Thank you, thank you”

Washington rolled his hips, sending jolts through Ben as he flexed against his ropes. Hamilton spied his desperation as Washington pumped into him.

“You want to _touch_ don't you. You see how well he mounts you and you can't offer him your hands.” Hamilton makes a point to twist hard on one of Ben’s nipples, eliciting a cry.

“What would we do without you, Benjamin. If we were someone else, someone worse, these ropes would be around your pretty neck. We’d _lose you. Washington_ would lose you”

Ben closed his eyes, tears threatening to spill again. He couldn't bear to think of that. Not now, not like this. Hamilton tweaked his nipple again.

“Open your eyes, Benjamin. Look at him.” He obliged, taking in the sight of Washington over him. His gaze was lusty and dark, hands gripping Ben’s legs tightly as he thrusted. Ben had the distinct feeling he was being committed to memory, filed away in the many nooks and crannies of Washington’s mind, where the image of him bound and on his back would remain for an eternity.

Everything seemed to melt together in perfect harmony. Washington's thrusts, matched with the frantic strokes Lafayette applied to his cock, all heightened by the sweet encouragement of Hamilton in his ear as he was grinded upon. It was all one experience, easily dissected into three distinct parts. Three distinct lovers. Something Ben had not had the pleasure of feeling before.

His gut clenched as his climax peaked, coming in ropes across his stomach and chest. Ben breathed heavily, feeling as both Hamilton and Lafayette became uneven as they ground their hips into him, each releasing only a few moments later. He turned his gaze up toward Washington, his eyes closed and hair plastered  to his brow with sweat. He was so close, biting off a string of curses as he pumped into Ben. Ben felt him release as he opened his eyes, taking in the sight of Ben and his boys happily sated and panting on one another.

Ben’s legs shook as Washington withdrew, the four of them left sweating in the chilly air of the bedroom. Hamilton and Lafayette undid Ben’s wrists, kissing and rotating them to renew circulation. Washington fetched a small basin of water and some rags, ready to wipe down the mess they had made all over Ben.

“Now then” he sighed, rubbing  the cloth over some already dried seed, “I expect you've learned your lesson. I don't wish to hear you boast until you get a firmer grasp on your skills”

Hamilton smirked. “Until we all get a firmer grasp on your skills.”

Washington looked up at Hamilton, his stare serious and menacing. “I don't know why you're so confident. We need to discuss some of your glaring flaws _in depth”_ Hamilton’s smile fell from his face.  
“S-sir?”

**Author's Note:**

> oh hohoho I made a thing. No more implied Washingharem for me, this is the untimely debut. Feedback is always appreciated. I thrive of validation from dirty writing. This definitely wouldn't be possible without amazing writers like Fickle and Nim paving the way with their awesome smut. I'm paying it forward, turnverts.


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